


Chains Adventurous - It's A Small World

by nvzblgrrl



Series: Chains Adventurous [4]
Category: Jumpchain, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: The Minish Cap
Genre: Female Link, Gen, Jumpchain - Freeform, more tags will be added as relevant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-03-18 15:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13684377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nvzblgrrl/pseuds/nvzblgrrl
Summary: Being a hero is hard. Being a hero while dealing with the baggage of the weirdos that live in your head is harder, but occasionally they help... you hope. Semi-novelization of the Minish Cap. Warnings for violence, language, and mild-crossover themes.





	1. The Princess and the Picori Festival

**Author's Note:**

> Text Key
> 
> "Audible speech."
> 
> 'Directed thought, telepathic speech.'

Whatever the rest of Hyrule may have been – and Hyrule could be many things –, the fields surrounding its capital city presented the classical Arcadian image; a plain of rolling grass and small clusters of trees, largely unspoiled by the touch of civilization save for the roads that ran through it.

The roads themselves were telling in their own way; while some of them were paved with cobblestone paid for by the people's taxes, others were little more than end result of many generations walking along the same winding path through the hills and fields, the only difference marking the last from game trails being the occasional bit of fence or the odd sign post informing any onlookers of what homestead they were headed towards.

Without those signs or some internal map to travel by, a person could spend hours roaming along the roads without seeing any other mark of civilization.

Zelda knows that she wouldn't have gotten lost. Princess or not, she had been walking these worn paths for years and was possessed of a good amount of common sense, if she did say so herself. Even if she wasn't, Impa would not have forgotten so easily and it was a rare day when her nursemaid-slash-bodyguard wasn't half a step behind her, matching her pace with a knifepoint precision while casually scanning their immediate surroundings for any threats.

The princess didn't pay much attention to it most of the time. For as long as she could remember, Impa had been as close to her as her own shadow and it had never struck Zelda as anything to be particularly bothered about. Today, however, it played on some anxious nerve like a bow on an overtightened violin string.

"It's just a simple errand, Impa," Zelda said for the third time since they left the castle. "You don't need to follow me like an assassin could jump out behind a bush at any second. Besides, I'm not a child anymore."

"You are fifteen years old and unversed in any form of combat," the Sheikah replied, continuing her scan of the environment. "That is the definition of 'child' by more races than I care to name. And nothing is 'simple' where a princess is involved, especially when that princess insists on sneaking out of the castle whenever she feels her lessons have become too dull."

The Hylian princess glanced back at her companion. Tall, wiry, and corded with muscle beneath the cloak and loose robes she wore over her combat leotard, it was easy to define Impa as a warrior by first glance alone. Knowledge of the Sheikah culture gave away more concrete facts; the rings of blue chrysocolla stone in her ears marked her as an adult fully trained in the realms of both stealth and combat while number of plaits and the colors of the threads between them in her braid broadcast the number of years she'd spent in service to the crown in her various capacities.

The multitude of concealed weapons on her person… well, while Zelda had a fair idea where some of those were, she knew Impa well enough to know that she could never say 'all' and had enough common sense not to say 'most'.

The most Zelda had hidden on her person was a bit of string and a small purse of spending money, though maybe her hair pin could serve as a stiletto blade in a pinch if used as unintended. Of course, considering that it was _Impa_ who styled the princess's hair most days, what uses were intended could prove somewhat different than what a civilian might assume.

"Perhaps I wouldn't be so troublesome if you would just train me. Haven't you complimented me on my sneaking abilities before?" Zelda said, forcing her hands not to reach up and pull the hair pin free for the sake of looking at it. Princesses weren't allowed to give into brash impulse, especially when it messed up their stately image. "I wouldn't think it would be unreasonable to learn combat from that base…"

Impa's mouth curled upward at the corner. "True, you are not as hopeless as most Hylians are in that field," she replied. "And I would, if Daltus had given me leave to do so. Unfortunately…"

"…I know, 'such conduct is unbecoming for a princess'," Zelda finished with a sigh. "I wish people understood that I'm not some fragile thing that'll break into a thousand pieces at the lightest touch."

"I would never presume to call you weak, my princess," Impa said, looking up into the sky with an almost appraising expression on her face. "While this is a land of peace, it does no harm to know how to survive in a time of strife. I suppose it would be wiser for you to have some means of defending yourself should worst come to worse."

There must have been stars shining in her eyes, because her bodyguard's tone immediately took a turn back to the serious. "Do not presume that the lessons will be a certainty. If I cannot sway Daltus with words and reason, my oath prevents me from going against his wishes."

They passed under the branches of a spreading oak, the dappled shadows offering a minute respite from the morning sun.

"Impa," Zelda asked after a minute. "Do you think that trouble is coming?"

Her bodyguard didn't answer immediately, turning the question over with the careful consideration she gave to an unfamiliar weapon. "…I cannot say with certainty," she finally said as they began to climb up a hill. "But I sense that an ill wind is blowing somewhere, a wind that may carry trouble our way sooner than any of us would like."

Zelda tried not to dwell on that ominous statement as they continued to walk down the winding path to Split Farm.

* * *

Split Farm was not much to look at from the outside. A two-story farmhouse, paint long faded by exposure to the elements, stood on a small hill surrounded by a small orchard of well-tended apple trees. A barn of similar condition to the house sat next to it, doors open so that the cuccos could wander the yard and next to that, a small outbuilding stood, chimney puffing away as the sound of hammer on steel rang out in perfect time.

To those who didn't know who lived there, it was merely another Hylian homestead. Perhaps the presence of the orchard and the blacksmith rendered it somewhat more unique, but apples and blacksmiths were by no means rarities in Hyrule. Perhaps if the orchard had produced magic apples, the cuccos golden eggs, or the blacksmith enchanted blades – as if the works of the Master Smith were somehow insufficient on their own –, but no, there was no inherent mystery to the homestead. There was only the orchard, the cuccos, and the family that tended both.

A stocky man with lavender hair and a black moustache was in the orchard, moving barrels of apples into a cart. Each barrel was almost as wide around as he was, but there was little reason to believe that the former knight was experiencing any true difficulty with the task.

"If you are seeking Master Smith, he's in his forge," he said, not turning around to look at the arrivals. "Just follow the sound of hammering and you should find it–"

"Sir Alfon!"

The former knight turned around, his eyebrows climbing up his forehead as he realized who he'd been taking to. "Princess Zelda! I didn't think they would send you to collect the prize sword!"

Zelda dipped her head. "My father was going to send a page, but I want to invite my friend to go to the festival with me. If that is acceptable, of course."

The language was a touch overformal, but it wasn't easy to shuck off the habits of royalty, especially when addressing someone she remembered as a knight under her father's banner.

"Why wouldn't it be? I was planning on taking the children to the festival later on in the day, so it's hardly a large change in plans," Alfon replied. "And to give service to the crown at the same time, why, that's two keese with one arrow by my book."

"So where is Li–?" Zelda began to ask before a crash from behind them interrupted her.

A pile of leaves that had been gathered up behind the house was now adorned by a puff of ashy brown-pink hair, a pair of skinny white-clad legs sticking straight up into the air, a number of white feathers, and one ruffled looking cucco that quickly hopped down to the ground with a huff before going along its way.

That was one question answered, she supposed.

"Kyrin!" Alfon shouted.

A small head with a tangled crown of blond hair poked out of an upstairs window on the house. "She wouldn't wake up!" the boy yelled back.

"That was no call to let loose a cucco inside the house!"

Zelda ran over to the pile of leaves where her friend had fallen, grabbing an outstretched hand to pull Lief free of the debris that had broken her fall. Even for a princess barred from most forms of exercise outside of riding and dance, it was easy for her to pull her friend up and onto her feet. A small advantage to being a few years older and a few more inches taller than her friend, Zelda supposed. It didn't hurt that Lief was a bit on the small side to begin with.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Probably," Lief replied as she brushed debris off of her tunic.

Compared to Kyrin's loud voice, Lief's was a whisper. No, not a whisper. A whisper was a hesitant, fragile thing, like a faint wind disturbing long dead leaves. Lief's voice was like the murmur of a forest brook, Zelda imagined, letting the poetic description paint the picture for her. Rarely ever loud or harsh – Zelda never wanted to be present for the occasion when Lief decided to be either of those things –, but clear, steady, and impossible to miss so long as you took the time to listen.

Most people, it seemed, didn't.

"Anyway," Zelda said quickly as her friend looked up. "I came to pick up the sword for the competition – my father commissioned Master Smith for it a month or so ago, but you probably knew that since you help him so much – and I thought that if I asked, you might be able to go with me to the festival!"

She stopped to catch her breath as Lief tilted her head to the side in consideration. "Sounds good to me," Lief finally said. "We might even make it in time to watch the tournament."

Zelda beamed.

"Hey! Do I get to go early too?" Kyrin shouted, bouncing off of his big sister in a typical display of ten year old rambunctiousness. If not for the dynamics and her own previous knowledge, Zelda might have guessed the two weren't related, for all the difference between them in appearance and demeanor.

"No," Alfon answered, handing the boy a bucket full of seed meal. "You get to tend to the cuccos, help me gather up what goods we'll be taking to the festival, and clean up the mess you made of you and your sister's bedroom."

The boy's ears fell with his expression as his uncle guided him towards the barn.

"I'd say that was harsh but that was a long fall…" Lief murmured, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Well, maybe Kyrin will learn something about not putting people in dangerous situations," Zelda said, crossing her arms in irritation. "I only have one best friend, you know, and she is irreplaceable."

As she turned to head into the smith's shack, the princess would swear that there was a small but glowing smile on Lief's face.

* * *

Your name is Lief. There isn't really a surname attached, even if people – census takers, mostly – try to figure one out every so often. Smith, on account of your grandfather. Appelman, on account of the orchard. Knight, on account of the family history. Sometimes, they even try to make 'Split Farm' into something that doesn't sound like a ten second effort before realizing that their attempt is not only unwieldy, but unfit for public use.

You've never been particularly bothered by this. After all, surnames are for those who can afford them and, as many of the children at the school pointed out before you suddenly had the princess's protection, you and your family are dirt poor.

…you hope that the next census taker doesn't try to write you down as 'Lief Dirt'. The prospect makes even 'Splarm' start to seem like a palatable option.

The sound of a hammer blow brings you back to reality.

Your grandfather, the Smith – he had another name before that, one that came prefixed with a Sir, but that name is long gone, replaced with 'Father', 'Grandfather', and 'Master Smith' depending on who's talking to him – was standing before the forge, hammer in one hand and sword in the other, with all the muscles earned through years of swordsmanship and toned by decades of craftsmanship tense and gleaming with sweat. His frost white hair was bound back with a green bandana, the same color as his tunic, and the leather apron that protected his body from stray sparks was well worn with age, with what little cracks there are catching the light of the forge like cracks in a volcano's core.

It'd be a much more impressive image if the room didn't smell faintly of both oil and sweat around the more obvious scents of hot metal and coal fire, but hard work tends to stink in more ways than one.

The Smith looked at the blade, assessing the lines and weight of it from every angle. Then, satisfied with what he had in his hand, he quenched it in the oil and went about the much quicker business of assembling the sheath out of wood and leather.

Both the sword and the sheath were simple things without any excess adornment to mark them as the prize they really were, but you knew enough about the craft to know that you were looking at something that would not only take a swordsman through the rest of his life without fail, but would do the same for his son and grandson if properly taken care of.

"There. One of my best works," your grandfather said before he took a sip of the special spring water he kept just out of reach of the forge's heat. The fact that you have never been permitted even a small taste makes it seem extra special, even if part of you knew it was probably because at least a third of its content was that homebrew moonshine he got from the forest witch as payment for her various needs. "A fitting prize for the winner of a tournament of swords."

"It's wonderful!" Zelda cried, hovering over the finished blade with her hands right up to her mouth.

She's smart and she knows a little about swords, mostly because every time it's you visiting her, the two of you more often than not end up looking at the knight's armory or some shop in town. In a reversal of the usual dynamics, that's when Zelda played the part of listener and you the expert.

Maybe that's just her indulging you. It's not like the library in the castle wouldn't have books on swords, not when the town library has around fifteen, but it still feels good to be acknowledged as smart.

Besides, it's not like you've ever been able to turn her down.

The Smith wrapped the sword with a deftness you were just able to follow, the supple buckskin and braided twine falling into a neat web that would protect the sheath and hilt from any dust that might fall on it as you ventured the long path to Hyrule Castle. That it would also make it easier to carry was just a neat bonus, you think as he hands it to you.

Zelda was already by the door, bouncing on the balls of her feet like a child half her age. "Alright! Let's go!"

Aand then she's gone. Back outside to the orchard and Impa.

Before you could follow, your grandfather's hand fell on your shoulder, turning you around as he crouched down to your height.

He's always been bigger than you. Most people have always been bigger than you. When you were younger, it was just a given, but as you grew older and failed to hit a proper growth spurt, it had become clear that you were always going to be smaller than everyone else.

"Lief," he said gravely. "Never forget that, for all Zelda is your friend, she is also the Princess of Hyrule. Watch over her and don't let anything bad happen to her."

You nodded. This is an old conversation for you… or you've had enough like it that it feels old.

The first time was with your father, when he'd been forced you bring you and Kyrin – just a baby at the time – to the castle with him after your mother died. You'd been three, too young to remember anything beyond a warm touch and long hair that fell in your face every time she leaned over you, but not so young that you couldn't help but stare when the Princess had walked past the barracks, all gold hair and endless questions, the shadowy figure of Impa right behind her all the while.

He'd seen you staring and had taken you aside. 'That's the princess. It's my job as a knight to protect her and make sure that nothing bad happens to her,' he'd explained. 'Maybe someday that'll be your job too.'

Two years later, after you'd started school and immediately taken up position at the bottom of the social food chain, Zelda took notice of you. Why, you don't know. Seven year olds have never had much use for five year olds, but she'd taken you under her protection anyway, chattering to you about everything as she helped to walk you through the finer points of reading and mathematics.

Both Impa and King Daltus himself had given you the speeches that time. The difference of Impa coming to you and you being brought to the King made for very different 'moods', but the message was effectively the same.

'Zelda is the princess of Hyrule. You are expected to be on your best behavior around her and to avoid causing her trouble, else you will be _removed_.'

Okay, perhaps you had been the one to add the threat of 'removal' – and whether your brain had meant banishment or death by that, you couldn't say – to the overall message, but the impression of it was definitely there.

Three years after that, after the worst week of your life, it was Uncle Alfon who'd come to make the speech, kneeling down by the bed you were consigned to until the doctor gave you leave to actually start living again.

'If not for the princess, we may have never found you. You – no, _we_ owe her a great debt for this. It may be one that we may never be able to repay, but–'

Something sparked in you at that. Whether it was the look on your uncle's face or the still open wound of your father's death, you couldn't say, but suddenly you had something to grab onto after so many days of scrambling for your own life. 'Teach me how to use a sword and I'll become her knight.'

Your hands, calloused from training with hammer and blade for the last five years, tightened around the wrapped sword.

No. Nothing would happen to your friend. Not if you had anything to say about it. You'd make sure she stayed safe, with your sword, your shield, or your life. Of course, the difficulty of that was that you didn't have a shield or a sword, unless you wanted to count the plank and the barrel lid you usually practiced with, but you did have the last one.

"Lief! Aren't you coming?" Zelda called from outside.

Your grandfather's grip on your shoulder finally released, allowing you to hurry after the princess with the prize blade held tight in your hands as you got ready to head down the long winding path to Hyrule Castle Town.

Many people had told you that protecting Princess Zelda was the most important thing you could do. Nobody had ever asked you if you would do the same if she wasn't royalty. If they had, though, the truth would have been a resounding 'yes'.

* * *

"Doesn't this look fun? Let's have a look around!"

You tried to keep up with Zelda, but her excitement had granted her a speed that you would be hard pressed to match on your best day.

Hyrule Castle Town was crowded, even more than it would be on a normal day. It made sense; this was the yearly Picori Festival, a time when most people who could afford the trip came in, either to partake in the festivities or hawk their wares to a wider clientele then they would ordinarily be able to access. There were kiosks and games of skill and a thousand other things all happening at once – it's so _loud_ – and Zelda had left you alone in this, why did you even agree–?

A hand gently took yours, drawing you out of your panic like a bucket of cold water to the face.

"Sorry, Lief. I shouldn't have rushed off without you," Zelda said, this time going much slower as she led you around the games, Impa following just behind like a shadow. "I forgot that you don't like crowds."

You nodded, your throat not quite ready to release your voice just yet. You liked having space. Whether it was to move or to just breathe, you needed a certain amount of it just to function. And Hyrule Castle Town didn't always have a lot of it to go around, but usually if you took it just one thing at a time,– if the day was a good one – the whole mess wouldn't press in on you quite as hard.

'Usually' didn't cover festivals.

You stuck close to Zelda, clenching her hand tightly whenever new noise or unexpected contact made you jump. Anyone looking at you from the outside would probably see a cool, if slightly cautious thirteen year old, but you had a good idea of how many knots your stomach had managed to tie itself into over the last five minutes.

Now that was a _great_ quality for a knight, being too anxious to deal with people.

Not to say that the festival wasn't fun. There were plenty of interesting booths and delicious snacks and more than a few entertainers. You liked the organ grinding storyteller especially, because he managed to be quiet and loud at the same time. Probably a necessary aspect of preforming for children, being able to keep their attention without scaring the others with excess noise.

Once the man's story of the Picori was finished, Zelda pulled you away again, this time taking you around the prize games. Darts, fish catching contests – which weren't all that fair to the fish in your opinion –, and a dozen other distractions lined the street, stuffed animals of every possible description crowding the shelves like a captive audience.

A man that you recognized as one of the grocers your uncle sold apples to was running a relatively simple stand, one where one drew a random piece of paper from a box. If the paper was white, it was a loser. If it was green, a small prize or monetary award was given. Blue, a prize of intermediary value. Red, a high level prize. And apparently, there was a piece of shiny gold paper hiding in there, because that was the one Zelda had pulled out of the box.

"Well! It looks like you won the grand prize, Princess! Which of the option would you like?" the man said setting down his bell to gesture at a shelf full of various prizes. While the other shelves had large selections of masks, toys, and baubles to choose form, this shelf had three items; a crystal heart charm, a large gold rupee, and a well-crafted shield, one that was clearly meant for actual combat than any form of play fighting. "Oh, I bet it'll be this crystal heart charm. A princess wouldn't have much need for rupees and the shield."

"The shield," Zelda said, pointing at it. It was the sort of thing that would be the first defense of a hedge knight, and there was a simple design painted on its front of an eagle over three triangles arranged in the form of a larger one. The triangle symbol was a common one in Hyrule, though the exact meaning of it had been somewhat muddled after the war a century ago. Still, you wouldn't be surprised if Zelda knew exactly what it meant.

The grocer blinked. "The… shield? But – what about the rupee? Or the heart charm?"

"I'd like the shield, please."

The man relented, handing the shield to Zelda who immediately handed it to you.

As you blinked, she beamed at you. "Now you're one step closer to becoming a knight!" she said.

And the first thing you would use this shield for was covering up your embarrassed expression, which wasn't helped by the grocer laughing.

Zelda led you away from the main crowd after that, bringing you to an empty seat in the royal box so you could watch the tournament. "There's always a little extra space here," she said with a wink. "Because most of the castle soldiers know the combatants and their tricks, they don't always feel like attending even if they don't have a shift to keep them away."

You guessed that made sense, even though you couldn't quite see yourself doing that. Maybe it'd be different when you were older. The two of you had reached the tournament just in time to see the final bout. Swiftblade versus someone you don't know and can't –

"Vaati!" the announcer cried out as the purple cloaked teenager took the field.

'Vaati?'

The thought barely felt like your own even as some part of you instinctively grasped that you _knew_ that name from somewhere. It doesn't help that there was a feeling crawling up your spine like the first cold wind before a storm.

Whatever you thought about that and whoever Vaati was, it was clear that he had some skill behind him to be matched up against the local master swordsman. The fact that he looked like he was barely any older than you made that doubly impressive.

…Yet, you couldn't shake the sense that there was _nothing_ you should be admiring about him.

Walking over to the starting mark, Swiftblade drew his sword and gave a curt salute to his opponent, a gesture that his cloaked opponent did not return.

"Begin!" a judge declared, ringing a bell.

Immediately, the two swordsmen darted forward, steel clanging as thrusts were parried and slashes blocked. The 'dance' was extremely fast and just as complicated, each participant leaping and ducking as the other made moves in the opposite direction. Despite that tightness of action, it was still easy to pick out the differences in Swiftblade's text-book precision and Vaati's instinctive twists and turns.

The fact that the teenager was clearly keeping up with his much more experienced opponent was impressive though. You could only hope that you'd be able to rival that level of speed someday… even if you'd leave out the kicking part if you ever participated in a tournament yourself.

Swiftblade drew back, light dancing along the line of his sword as he prepared for – yes! That was his Dash Attack! Capable of crossing a room in seconds at the cost of not being able to stop immediately. The only way Vaati would be getting out of the way in time was –

…if the wind gusted across the field to push him out of the way, you guessed.

Gaining traction again, Vaati closed the gap between himself and Swiftblade, rapping the man twice in the back with the pommel of his sword before his opponent could turn around.

Then the battle was back to the earlier clash of steel. Neither fighter seemed to have any indication of slowing, meaning that the battle would at least be drawn out for another minute unless someone made a grievous misstep.

As if answering your assessment, Vaati's violet cloak swept forward as the wind ripped across the field again, kicking up a cloud of dust around him as he skidded backwards through the sand –

No, wait. You could see where he was dragging his heels, kicking up more dust than the wind would have brought up on its own. He wasn't scrambling away from his opponent; he was actively taking advantage of the wind to carry dust into Swiftblade's eyes.

The strategy seemed to be working; Swiftblade's movements were slowing, becoming less decisive. You'd had a few lessons with Swiftblade, enough to know that the man valued control above anything else in his art. Reduce his ability to gauge distance and he would instinctively start holding back, unwilling to chance inflicting a mortal wound because of a miscalculation.

In a real fight, it would be a valid tactic. Here… it was questionable, seeing that the tournament was more competitive than ranked, but the spirit, like many of Vaati's previous moves, was definitely that of a cheat, even if the wind was natural.

Somehow, you didn't think it was.

Finally, Swiftblade's movements became more sure, showing that he'd cleared his vision enough to get back on the offensive. As Vaati darted back, the swordsman didn't follow, instead holding his sword straight out in front of him, a glimmer of light – might brighter than before – dancing up the blade in preparation for…

Your eyes widened as the man's stance shifted. Spin Attack. That was Swiftblade's specialty move, one that nobody else – well, except for maybe Swiftblade the First, but he was dead so… – could quite pull off without losing balance or track of the world around them.

Swiftblade finally released the technique, the force of his swing bringing up the loose dust in the area up in a miniature dust devil. There was no way –

Vaati leapt over the spinning attack, hanging in the air for an almost impossible length of time before twisting around in his own spin to launch a sword beam – the crowd oooh'd at that – in response. His opponent lurched out of its path before it could strike true, but the stumble at the end did Swiftblade no favors and it only took one more exchange of blows before the tip of Vaati's sword was at the man's neck.

"And Vaati wins the bout!"

You stared at the area as the rest of the crowd leapt to its feet, the screams and cheers almost deafening.

What did you just witness?

* * *

The tournament had been easy to win. Vaati might have been more sorcerer than swordsman, but he had enough martial ability that his use of wind magic to bolster his efforts was hardly noticeable.

Oh, the humans had some skill, but without a desire to kill and any reason to suspect they were dueling a magic user, outclassing them was a simple matter. Nobody questioned the motives of the wind, after all, regardless of if it was blowing dust in their eyes, upsetting their balance, or carrying their opponent just out of reach. As far as they were concerned, it was just bad luck.

Humans were such simple, short-sighted creatures in that respect.

As his escort guided him to the courtyard of Hyrule Castle, the Wind Mage evaluated the situation.

The guards weren't anywhere near the level of the swordsmen that had filled the tournament, the princess was a non-entity unless he felt like taking a hostage – though the child at her side made him discard the idea because that was too many bodies to deal with at one time –, and he had easy access to sky in the event he needed an escape.

Then he turned his attention to the bound chest.

It was a large and heavy affair, obviously antique – at least by human standards – and decorated with seals and protections, with a special focus being afforded to the space around the Picori Blade. Latent magic burned in it like a glowing coal and Vaati could just taste the power hiding within.

Finally receiving a nod from his escort that it was now acceptable for him to approach the chest, Vaati stepped up to it. Tracing a finger down the blade with intermittent flicks – the steel sang of Minish craftsmanship, even after a century of disuse – to test the quality, he finally found what he was looking for. A flaw. Tiny and almost invisible to the untrained eye, but it was most _definitely_ there and oh so exploitable.

The blast of magic that he released into that flaw immediately broke the blade in twain, allowing the chest to snap open like it had been waiting for him all those years. Vaati inched forward, disregarding the screaming that surrounded him, eager to claim his prize–

And received a face full of darkness as his reward.

Monsters poured from the box, some materializing into their true forms immediately to send guards scrambling to stop them while the smarter ones flew to more distant territories. Moblins, Octoroks, Chuchu, and more would take up residence across the country, rendering the roads a hundred times more dangerous for any unwary traveler. A century of peace, shattered in an instant.

But that was not Vaati's concern as he wiped the residue of some misbegotten beast off of his face with a snarl. "Disgusting. But an excellent…" he cut off as he looked in the now empty box.

It wasn't supposed to be empty.

"Where is the Light Force?!"

For a moment, Vaati's form writhed beneath his cloak, an innumerable amount of black wings in various sizes and configurations flexing and tensing as the Wind Mage wrestled with his rage, his fingers turning into claws for the express purpose of damaging the source of his frustration. All his research, all his effort – for an empty box! It was beyond infuriating, it was as if the gods were out to spite him specifically.

The moment passed, however, and Vaati's form returned to the semblance of humanity once more.

So the old tales were wrong. Humans could hardly be expected to get everything right. He just needed to find another angle –

Vaati swept his body to the side as the youth lunged at him, slamming the shield into the ground where he'd stood. The assault may have missed his body, but it still managed to tear the corner of his cloak, telling him exactly how close it had come to striking flesh.

"You _nuisance_."

The youth fixed a glare on him, shifting their grip on their shield in preparation for another attempt. One that Vaati didn't have the time _or_ patience for. Especially not when he'd just been denied the Light Force.

He charged a quick spell in his hands, certain the feral little thing wouldn't be harassing him further. Statues, after all, were capable of nothing more than collecting pigeons, and he doubted the youth had any magical resistances.

Before the crackling orb could strike, its target threw up its shield, an act that, against all sense, actually seemed to be holding back the spell, at least for the moment. That didn't mean the spell wouldn't eventually dig its way through the wood and turn the child to stone, but the fact that 'eventually' was even part of the sentence was unheard of.

Then the princess flung herself in front of the child, a golden globe of energy surrounding the pair and obliterating Vaati's spell.

A magic user. Likely nowhere close to the Wind Mage's level, but skilled enough to prove a further irritation. No matter, he thought, charging up another spell and reinforcing it with the power of the Mage's Cap.

This time, there would be no blocking it, be the shield magical or physical. It would only stop when it did what it was supposed to.

The youth, ignorant of the power it was up against, braced itself behind its flimsy defense once more as Vaati released the spell.

The princess, on the other hand, seemed much more present. Vaati could see her eyes widening, the lightning fast chain of decisions that would decide her next – and last – move playing out behind them, and then…

She pushed her 'knight' out of the path of the spell, leaving herself there to take the blow herself. Now, where the princess had stood, there was a stone statue in her exact likeness, right down to the steely expression she'd adopted at the last second.

"How tediously noble," Vaati said, reaching out to flick a chip of stone from the end of her nose before affording a glance at his other opponent.

Unconscious. Must have struck its head on something on the way down. Pathetic.

"You shouldn't have gotten in my way," he informed it before the sound of rattling weapons and chain mail brought his attention back to the courtyard at large. Ah, the guards had arrived.

"Surrender, Vaati," one of them – a captain? He had the look of authority – said, brandishing a spear.

Hah. As if a pointy stick could do anything.

"You should know better than to meddle with your betters," the sorcerer replied, drawing his cape close around himself. Then, as the guards began to move in close, he released the windstorm spell he'd been gathering, aiming the brunt of it straight down and launching himself straight up into the air while knocking the rabble back.

Once he was clear of the castle walls, Vaati stretched leathery black wings out from under his cloak to carry him away to a more secure location. Once he was there, he'd go about the business of tracking down the Light Force once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another story in my Chains Adventurous series, this time for the Legend of Zelda: the Minish Cap. Bit of a slow start but that's the way it wanted to be written.
> 
> The presence of this story doesn't mean that I'm discontinuing the others. I'm still working there. This is just one of the reasons why the updates are so slow (besides rewrites and edits), because I jump between different threads of the series as ideas hit me. This includes doing research, plotting out story ideas, developing characters, and number crunching various Jumps.
> 
> …also I have a lot of stuff going on in my day-to-day life. Being an adult is hard.
> 
> Lief – pretty much a female Link. Characterization choices are based on my experience with the games and the fact that every time I ever went to Hyrule Castle Town in the 3D games, I always got overwhelmed and directionally screwed up. I've got quite a bit of her backstory plotted out and a good chunk of it is exposited here already, though some aspects that haven't been covered yet will pop up in future chapters.
> 
> Age up – Link comes across as much younger in the Minish Cap, I know, but I went with the number that was given to me by the Jumpchain dice roll of destiny, which was 13. Zelda was aged up in correspondence with Lief's backstory (which I'd come up with first).
> 
> Lief's family – Smith is Link's grandfather from the Minish Cap, Alfon is Link's uncle from A Link To The Past (I like him, okay?), Arn is the name of Link's father in the Valiant Comics Legend Of Zelda comic book series, and Kyrin is Link's younger brother in the Legend of Zelda: Sage of Shadows fan film (came up with my own Kyrin's characterization with very little input from that though).
> 
> Use of second person – is traditional for Zelda games. That it only applies to Lief's sections is just... the way I do things, I guess.
> 
> In the context of the overarching series, this story would be the fifth Jump (unless plans change, which I doubt at the moment). To those just coming in, the series is effectively a massive crossover journey but each story on its own usually sticks to one universe with minor additions of outside themes surrounding one character. I will present the details of what perks and items I picked out for Lief later.
> 
> Anyway, reviews are appreciated. Regardless of if you leave one or not, thank you for reading.


	2. Lief's Awakening

Your dreams were dark and muddled, filled with rushing to and from in places you couldn't quite manage to name, always with some sort of trouble hanging over your head. An endless desert to an island full of strange plants and on into a land of ice and an endless forest. Strange creatures abounded and you weren't even sure you were yourself in most of the dreams, because neither your body or your name seemed to fit quite right – the body more so than the name, because you could swear you spent half of the dreams running around on all fours wearing nothing but a fur coat –, but there was usually some stranger there that you still knew to call 'friend'.

'I know it's nice to get away from your troubles for a bit, but it's time to wake up,' someone said with a voice like gravel. It wasn't scary, but it wasn't soft or light like Zelda's either. It was rough and wild, like a half-feral barn cat; not necessarily an enemy, but not something that'd be properly friendly without good cause. 'You've already slept for too long.'

'Yeah,' another person said. This voice sounded like it was passing through a permanent grin, a sneaking snicker teasing the words into something playful by default. How real that joviality was though, you couldn't say. 'You can't save the princess by hanging around in bed. We can catch you up on the necessaries later.'

When you opened your eyes, it was to the sight of a stone ceiling and, once you managed to turn the bruised millstone that was your head to the side, to that of a moderately well-decorated room currently being tidied by a maid.

They'd brought you into the castle then. The furniture hadn't changed much since you'd lived here five years ago beyond the general arrangement, but why –

Right. Because Zelda had pushed you out of the way. Because you'd hit your head on the way down to the ground. Because you _failed_.

Some part of you coiled with resentment and dissatisfaction at that last thought in a way that would have made more sense if it was you listening to someone else get dressed down for something they couldn't help. It almost felt like the person in your dream, the first one with the rough voice.

But that didn't make sense. People didn't live inside of other people's heads.

'Well, they say there's always an exception to a rule,' the foxy voice said around its grin.

"And so the sleeper awakens."

Shoving the question of what was wrong with your head, you turned slightly to the side to look up at Impa. There was a disarray in her hair and a tension in her shoulders that didn't suit her – even the fact that you could see her shoulders was unusual, because that meant her ever present cloak wasn't there. When she arrived, you couldn't say. Perhaps she'd been waiting in the room the whole time, biding her time until you were in a position to fully appreciate her disapproval.

With that expectation in mind, the fact that the next words out of her mouth were "I am sorry," kind of threw you off for a moment.

"I should have stayed closer, rather than presume that the princess was safe because we were within the castle walls," Impa continued, her eyes closed. "If I had, you would have not have had to risk your life to protect Zelda."

Ignoring the stiffness in your body, you pulled yourself up into a sitting position. From this angle, you could see where they had leaned your shield up against an end table and how the design in the center had been burned almost past recognition by Vaati's spell. Zelda's gift, ruined within an hour of receiving it. "I still failed."

"A child with a shield and nothing else against a mage of unknown power who was not only able to defeat Swiftblade but a good third of the castle guard without taking a scratch is no fair contest, child," King Daltus said as he walked into the room, leaning down slightly to avoid catching his crown on the doorframe. A nod dismissed the maid, who gave a quick bow before scurrying away. "The fact that you managed to hold the first spell back for as long as you did already went against every precedent I've heard of."

That didn't make you feel all that better – the words 'never stood a chance' never did –, but hearing both the Shiekah and the king validate your weakness did take a bit of salt out of the wound.

"So what happens next?" you asked.

"I've put the guards on alert for any news of Vaati, though most of them are busy with the monsters he unleashed, and Impa will be travelling back to the Shiekah village to see if they have any resources that might tell us how to break the spell laid on the princess," King Daltus said as he carefully arranged himself in a nearby chair.

Unlike the throne, which had been made especially for him, the simple wooden piece was almost cartoonishly small for the king's massive frame, like if Uncle Alfon had decided to perch himself on one of the chairs from the Funday School. It was odd to think that the King's unusual size – easily twice that of the average Hylian in almost every respect, save for perhaps his shoulders, where it would have been an easy three – had once been such an asset to him as a warrior, because everything you'd ever seen indicated that being too big for the world around him was the source of many annoyances.

It also meant that, whenever the king dropped his stately demeanor, any emotions he wore seemed broadcasted that much more loudly. Right now, the slump of his shoulders and the look on his face spoke of tiredness and shame.

"Lief. The request I am about to make of you is not one that I have come to easily," he said quietly. "Not only because it is a great thing to ask, but because there are many factors in it that make it all the more complicated than it would be than if I had asked someone else. Perhaps if I had not been friends with your grandfather or if your father had not died in service to this kingdom or if… if you were older, I would not be so hesitant, but the circumstances do not allow me more time to think than what I have already taken."

He laced his fingers together and leaned forward further, the shadows falling over his somber expression. "We do not have access to the Light Force. It has been locked away, I'll say not where for fear the winds may carry that whisper to an unfriendly ear, but it is in no position to help us against Vaati. But we have what remains of the Picori Blade."

You almost asked if he wanted you to take it to your grandfather for repair, but if the solution had been that simple, the king would have done that already and without the preface of a long apology to you.

"Now, many regard the Picori as a myth. A story, told between children and jokingly used by adults as a means to encourage good behavior. But the Royal Family knows the truth of the matter; they are a very real people. Small and with a preference to being hidden, so their talents may not be abused, as the gifts they give others are meant to be exactly that; gifts. I know of one place the Picori dwell and that is within the depths of Minish Wood. I would send one of my knights on this quest, save for one fact; the Picori…"

"…can't be seen by adults. Only by children and the pure of heart," you finished. You'd heard the story enough times from the organ grinder that you suspected it was one of his favorites. The tales of the tiny race of people who delighted in the happiness of others only to hide away from all but the youngest eyes were old and well-known enough that they seemed more teasing jokes than anything rooted in history.

King Daltus smiled, but it was a weak, colorless version of the one you were used to. "Yes. I had a small worry that you might be too old, but my conscience would not permit me consider anyone younger."

"And as someone who's job relies on divining what lies within the hearts of men, let me say that I have no doubts that you have one of the finest hearts I have ever see," Impa added. "You are earnest and hardworking, loyal and kind. Zelda would not have become your friend if she had not seen those same things in you."

Your heart twinged a little at that, but any opportunity of figuring out if that sensation was pride or pain was cut short by the king's next question.

"Are you fit to stand, child?"

Instead of answering the king, you grabbed the edge of the bed and, with a little effort, pulled yourself to your feet. Your muscle were stiff and your head was still sore – maybe from having those voices and all of their baggage shoved into it –, but nothing felt like it was going to give away immediately. Given a little time for stretching, you'd be ready for anything.

The king nodded as he stood up. You could have kneeled, but considering you weren't that much higher than his hip to begin with, it would have been a pointless gesture. "I ask you, Lief, daughter of knights and friend of my daughter, if you will carry the broken blade to the Picori in the Minish Woods and see it forged anew, so that it may be used to chase away the darkness Vaati has brought upon Hyrule."

"Of course." There was never a question.

"Then I grant you the sword your grandfather forged for this task. It is dangerous to go alone and I know it will serve you well." He pulled a blue fabric bag along with the sword your grandfather had forged for him out from the inside of his cloak. As you accepted the burden, the king's formal demeanor fell away again to reveal the tired man. "And take care. While I would be happy to see the sword restored and Vaati defeated as soon as possible, it would grieve me as a father to see you injured because you felt rushed by my expectations."

* * *

They wouldn't let you leave right away, much as you wanted to get right to your quest. A doctor was summoned to look you over for injuries, a small satchel of supplies prepared, and your family called in so King Daltus could explain the situation to your uncle and grandfather.

On one level, you – more specifically, the voices in your head – could appreciate that. The adults were doing their 'due diligence' towards a child and, much as you might have disliked being treated as such, there was no denying that you simply didn't have the same range of ability and skills most adults had.

On another level, the fact that you were being held back from your quest was aggravating. Zelda wasn't getting any closer to release with you sitting here and having to deal with Kyrin while you waited…

"Why do _you_ get to go on a quest, Lief?" your brother asked, kicking his heels back and forth off the bed while you went over your supplies. For all your world had changed over the last few days, Kyrin had remained exactly the same – not that you were sure that was a good thing. "You're not that much older than me."

Well, you would much rather he be bothering anyone else. At least then you could deal with your own collection of questions without having his added to the pile. For all your brother was only a few years younger than you, nobody would ever guess it from the way he acted.

"You know how the stories about the Picori go," you replied as you looked away from him. The fact that, of all the things to be upset over, he'd picked on how 'lucky' you were to be able to go on a quest. Never mind that the quest was one to save your best friend or that it was so important, the King himself had apologized for giving it to you. "Only children and the pure of heart can see them."

"But I don't see why you have to do it. I could go."

And there it was – what Kyrin really thought of the situation. To him, it was an opportunity to be the hero in some legend, someone unmistakably 'special'. Maybe that was why he was always so noisy; it was an easy way to get attention without having to put any work into actually being good at something. He'd make noise about wanting to be a hero – not a knight, but a hero – and then drop out of Uncle Alfon's sword practice the moment he wasn't allowed to swing around wildly anymore.

You bit your tongue before the unkind thought could escape. "You don't know anything about fighting," you said instead.

"Yes, I do."

You hefted the Smith's sword in your hands, weighing it as you tried to figure out how to carry it. There was a fair chance that you'd have to do a lot of climbing, which would make having it at your side awkward. "Real fighting. Not throwing rotten apples and cuccos at people you don't like."

Maybe it was something he'd grow out of someday, either to settle into a trade or to start putting in the work required to become a knight. You hoped it would turn out that way, not only for his own sake but for the sake of your ability to tolerate his antics. There was only so much slack you could cut him before someone had enough rope to hang themselves with, and you weren't quite certain which of you would be coming out the worse in such a situation.

"The king asked me to go on this quest and he explained why he wouldn't ask anyone else," you said and, after a moment of thought, you added, "And there's a good chance that it's going to be a long one, if the Picori need me to do something before they can repair the Picori Blade."

Why that thought would occur to you, you didn't quite understand, but agreeing with it did seem to appease the voices in your head …which didn't seem like the greatest motive for doing anything, now that you thought of it.

"I could handle fetch quests," Kyrin muttered.

"With all the monsters that are wandering around now?" Not hardly. You shook your head. "Besides, you'd get bored after the second errand that didn't involve something 'cool'." Or flake out the moment the task started looking remotely thankless, like he did with everything else.

You shoved the unkind thought away as Kyrin went back to pouting, switching your attention back to the business of getting ready for the road. He was just a kid; annoying, certainly, but he didn't have any sense of the scale of things yet.

'What makes you any different?' one of the voices asked. 'You know enough math to know that thirteen isn't that much more than ten.'

You ignored the question as you pulled the baldric tight around your sword. Slinging it over your shoulder, you tested the angle it was sitting at. It was possible to draw the sword without too much difficulty, but you'd want to rearrange the setup if you were expecting a fight ahead of time. Still, your hands were free this way and, once you put the shield on your back, you'd be half-way protected from sneak attacks.

"Why you though?"

You turned to look at Kyrin. His expression had finally made the change from mulish to morose, which was different enough to get the sympathy his whining had lost back.

Maybe there was a good answer for that question. Maybe there was something you could say that would be deep and profound and explain everything to your brother in a way that would make him understand exactly what you were feeling.

Because you'd already lost the sort of ignorance that Kyrin carried around with him? Because you had a pretty good idea of what you were doing? Or maybe it was because you wanted to be special?

"Because it's Zelda," you decided as you picked up the half-empty satchel they gave you. Not because she was the princess – that wasn't even part of the equation –, but because she was your friend and, ultimately, the most precious person you had in the world. "And I would have gone anyway, regardless of if I'd gotten the king's blessing or his curse."

Your brother didn't have a response for that, so you went back to packing. A compass… right, that was useless without a map. And there was a map up on the shelf. You went for it, only for your hand stopped short of the map, because there was something sitting in front of it.

"Lief?" Kyrin asked. "What's wrong?"

It was a little… well, it wasn't a mouse. It was the right size and had the right general shape, but the feathered tail, general lack of fur, and – oh yeah – the _clothes_ were pretty clear indications that it definitely wasn't a rodent. The fact that it was writing something in a little book with a quill as long as it was tall didn't hurt that assessment either.

Whatever it was, it was well kitted out, with both a scarf and a shawl covering its upper body and a small satchel at its side with, upon slightly closer inspection, a sheathed sword tucked into a loop on the bag behind a large, ink-stained brush. Its hair – which was the same red color as the tip of its tail feather – was cut in a neat little bob, the fringe cutting a straight line across the top of its round glasses.

The last feature, combined with the clothes, struck a familiar chord. "Who are you?"

It jumped and then, once it had looked at you, reached up to its face and adjusted its glasses in what seemed to be an effort to cover up a hurt expression. "I know I look a little different, but I'm still Utari. Don't you remember?"

You didn't. But someone else did.

'Yes! Utari!' one of the voices yelled, their entire presence vibrating inside your skull like an overexcited bumblebee. 'That's Utari of the Poncle! She's my biographer!'

"Poncle?" Was that like the Picori? If it was, it might have just saved you a quest, even if the question of why one of the voices in your head – who you thought were part of a dream until they came rushing back in with this helpful information – needed a biographer was a bit overwhelming.

"Lief?" Kyrin asked. "Who are you talking too? What's a Poncle?"

The mouse-thing – Poncle? – jumped to her feet, the earlier dismay disappearing as she bouncing in excitement. "So you do remember! Shumari explained to me how the whole process works, but I didn't know for sure. He liked to fluff the facts whenever it made for a better story."

'Shumari's' presence grinned as you frowned.

"Process?" you repeat before realizing that you'd make for a decent parrot if you had feathers.

"It's… oooh… the way I understood it, it's a little like reincarnation, but not? Like you don't forget things but you're not always the same person either. And sometimes you end up in different worlds?" Utari shook her head, her bobbed hair fluffing outwards. "I'm still a little confused by it all myself, even though this is the third time it's happened to me."

She was in good company then because you had maybe ten percent of an understanding of what the hell was happening with your life right now.

Kyrin bumped into your side. "I asked you, Lief, what's a Ponc– is that a mouse?"

"I'm a Minish!" Utari replied.

"Then what's a Poncle? It sounds like a weird card game."

"I think you're thinking of Pinochle, Kyrin."

"I thought that was the stuff old ladies had in their houses."

"That's patchouli. Or potpourri. Depends on the old lady, I guess." It didn't hurt that you couldn't keep the two things straight in the first place.

The Poncle-slash-Minish gave a peeved little hop, feathered tail ruffling. "Focus! Oooh, you're going to be almost as bad as Shumari, I can just tell!"

' _Almost?_ ' the still unnamed voice asked with a snort as Shumari fell into helpless laughter. 'Utari's got a fucking short memory if she thinks you're going to match up to ol' Foxface's antics based off one boke and tsukkomi routine.'

You'll pretend that you know what those words mean. "So what do you want?" you asked.

Utari huffed. "I'm here to help you out with your quest."

The little thing was a biographer, right? That accounted for the quill, but the sword? "By writing it down?"

The Minish sniffed. "Among other things. Like _magic_. Can you do magic?"

No, you couldn't.

"Didn't think so," Utari said as if reading your mind. She looked awfully smug for someone on the fit of a hiss fit a minute ago. "Now will you accept my help?"

You sighed and stretched out your arm so the Minish could climb up to your shoulder. It's clear that anything resembling 'normal' in your life is long gone. It's just better to get in the habit of rolling with whatever other swerves destiny feels like throwing your way.

* * *

Nobody commented on the presence of Utari on your shoulder. Children would give away their interest by the movement of their eyes and the beginning of questions on their lips, but the adults completely failed to react. No half-second glance, no questions of 'who's your friend?'. It was if the Minish, taking a page from the book of the Picori, was completely invisible to their eyes.

Confusion aside, you weren't complaining. Anything that kept you from being crowded helped because even though Hyrule Castle Town was now a lot less busy than it had been during the festival, there still were enough people and stuff going on to make you uncomfortable.

The bakery, thankfully, wasn't one of those busy places, despite its relative importance in the community. A few customers were present, yes, but between them and the family that ran the place – the baker, his wife who ran the counter, and the children who organized the different breads as they were pulled from the ovens – there weren't nearly enough bodies present to drive you to the edge of panic.

As soon as it was your turn, you walked up to the counter. "I need..."

'My god, the croissant. Get the croissant.'

You would have settled for the day old breads, but the croissant was fresh for almost the same price. "The… croissant, please?"

"For home?" the baker's wife asked.

You shook your head. "Travel." The last time that you'd had to forage for food had showed you exactly how little there was to scrounge for those uninitiated to the forest. Better to bring some food with you and stretch out the supplies for a few days before taking any desperate measures.

"Ah." She placed a second croissant in with the first, tying them up neatly in a kerchief before handing them over. When you tried to pay for the extra, she waved the extra rupees away. "If you're traveling any distance along the roads, you'll need that money for the inns. I've been told that more than a few of them are driving up their prices now that there are monsters prowling around at night. A horrible way to do business, taking advantage of people's fear of what dwells in the dark, but I guess safety has a price these days."

While you more than likely weren't going to be traveling along any routes where inns were an option, the fact that people were playing the part of vulture in this crisis was galling. And it was all because of Vaati.

'You'll get to stab him. Eventually. If you can get the Four Sw–er, the Picori Blade reassembled without dying in the process,' one of the voices said as you left the shop, quickly covering up a slip that didn't entirely make sense unless they knew something that you didn't. The offhand mention of casual death wasn't too inspiring either.

Still, stabbing that stupid mage sounded pretty good.

You shuffled through the back streets, trying to avoid the main thoroughfares. Even though your knowledge of Hyrule Castle Town was incomplete and a few years out of date, it still didn't take long for you to clear the outer gates with nothing but a vague warning to 'be careful' hanging over your shoulder courtesy of a guard who's face you half-remembered from your childhood.

The question of if he remembered you is discarded as you make your way south towards the Minish Woods.

The countryside doesn't crowd you in the same way that the city does, but the presence of monsters means that you remain on guard. None of the ones that you've encountered seem to be all that strong, going down with no more than a couple of solid strikes before falling apart to dust, but there are enough of them – some with very unpleasant tricks up their slimy sleeves – to make you understand why people would be so eager to avoid the roads, especially at night.

Still, there's enough peace for both the voices in your head and the Minish on your shoulder to fill the air with stories.

'…so the best advice I can give is to try and avoid attracting the attention of godlike beings,' one of the voices finished as you came to a crossroad, the sign worn from the elements but still readable. She'd been introduced as 'Delaine' and while you didn't know much else about her, you appreciated her straight forward nature.

Shumari was not straight forward.

'But that's half the fun,' he immediately responded. 'How do you expect to meet interesting people and go on adventures with such a cautious approach to life?'

'By doing interesting things that don't involve being stepped on by time dragons,' Delaine replied. 'Not that going out of your way to avoid trouble means that it won't be going out of its way to find you.'

'Hah. My Weedwhacker is a snake slasher. Dialga wouldn't have been a problem for me.'

"Weedwhacker?" you asked incredulously. That was a terrible name for a sword, the sort of thing that Kyrin would dub one of his practice sticks after a few swipes at the tall grass outside the farm.

"Oh, Shumari told you about that?" Utari said with a slightly pained sigh. It was easy to forget that she was with you sometimes, between her almost non-existent weight and general unobtrusiveness. That was probably a good trait for a writer, being able to fade into the background so easily. "I tried to talk him out of calling the sword that – forget it being an objectively terrible name, it's highly disrespectful to do that to a divine blade, but he _insisted_ it was the best way to keep people from realizing the sword's true identity without really lying about it…"

Shumari blew a half-hearted raspberry that the Minish had no way of hearing. 'Well, it's not like you can carry a piece of a country's Imperial Regalia openly. Besides, it's a legitimate alternate reading…'

You decided you didn't want to know the exact details of Shumari's probably criminal past, if only for the sake of your continued sanity. Hopefully whatever gods presided over his country of origin wouldn't be coming after you for his hijinks, because your life was going bad as it was already. For now, you'd settle for something you could understand. "A swordsman?"

The trickster grinned. 'Yep. Two-handed blade, almost twice your size. You, not your sword. Completely different sort of beast than your stinger there. Lot less control once you get going, for one, but it hits like a hurricane if you can get a solid strike… and I'm very good at getting in the hits.'

You could see it in your mind's eye clearly, almost clear enough to feel the weight of the sword in your hand, the effort that every swing took to even begin, and the dance that wove all that into a viable style. It would be something to learn something in the future, however, because you didn't have time for that now.

Seeing something moving in the road ahead, you ducked behind a tree. Some sort of mole creature was popping in and out of the ground, peering around every time it came up with another claw full of dirt. It looked harmless, but what something looked like and what it actually was could prove to be two very different things.

Well, it wasn't like you're going to be getting anywhere hiding behind the local shrubbery.

You leap out, sword already in hand as you twist around for the first strike, intent on finishing the fight before it could properly begin.

Unfortunately, that isn't how it looks to be playing out, because the mole leaps upward, revealing a tower of identical creatures below it, swaying as they support the weight of the ones above them. It was a practice in futility, as one of the moles fell down on you, scratching you with its long claws on its way down. That you managed to slice it hard enough that it fell apart into smoke was secondary to the pain, but the others didn't get close enough to land a hit, instead opting to scramble away from you and your sword.

'I've played Whack-A-Mole, but this is ridiculous,' Delaine muttered as the last of the monsters decided to make a break for subterranean safety rather than attempt to avenge their fallen brethren. 'Want to try mounting a pursuit?'

No. As much as you disliked leaving a chore unfinished, it simply wasn't possible to go after them. If you were a Goron or something else naturally adapted for that sort of work, it wouldn't be an issue, but as a Hylian, the best you could do was wait around for them to resurface. And without any time to waste…

You sheathed your sword as you turned back towards the road, making a note to watch the dirt for any ridges that might tease at the presence of a burrowing creature at work.

There were a few other encounters along the way. Crawling creatures – 'Octorok,' Delaine explained – mostly, but a few others were present that she couldn't name.

'I'm not exactly an expert on the subject,' she said when you asked about it. 'It's not like I've got some mental bestiary on order.'

'Unless you count Pokémon. How many species can you list?'

'That's a totally different subject.'

'Is it really?'

You tuned out the burgeoning argument and turned your attention to Utari. "You said earlier that you were a Minish. Does that have anything to do with Minish Woods?"

Her nose twitched as she reached up to adjust her glasses. "Yes, actually. The Minish live there. Well, some of them. There's a few different population centers that I've heard of. There's a community spread out through Hyrule Castle Town – I'm a Library Minish myself – and a few that live on their own in other areas. Usually they live around where people are, but there are exceptions to the rule."

"Because you can be invisible to adults?" you guessed.

She shrugged. "Well, that's just the easiest way to survive when you're as small as us. It's not like we're in a position to physically fight back against anything bigger than a bug. Culturally, we find humans interesting and like to help out where we can. It's also relatively easy for us to use the stuff you guys lose and forget about."

'Like the Borrowers.'

You'll pretend that you understood the reference.

"So I'm guessing that you don't know anything about navigating the Minish Woods then," you said, eyes watching the approaching tree line. It was impossible to miss it; the green there was different, darker and more mysterious than the green of the fields behind you. Instead of glittering with sunlight and potential light, the Woods were dark and mysterious – traits that were alluring, in their own way, but also unrepentantly dangerous in the same fashion, like a crooked finger beckoning you into a dark alleyway.

"Nope."

Figures.

You looked up at the trees, listening for a moment to the faint groan of swaying wood and whispering leaves. The sound took you back in time for a moment – long enough to feel a cold phantom rain splattering against your skin as hunger gnawed at your insides – before you shook yourself back to the now.

"Right. Let's go."

Ignoring every bit of common sense that told you to turn around and leave, you entered the woods where your father died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For all intents and purposes, Lief is a female Link. No, not for any particularly special reason. I think. Maybe the motive was a having a chivalric romance with lesbian subtext… Regardless, the problems of 1) Lief is currently 13 and Zelda 15, 2) Zelda is a statue rn, and 3) the politics of Zelda being a princess mean it'll probably get no further than courtly love (a.k.a. suffering with style, pining without promise of payoff, or doing the creep in a semi-socially acceptable way).
> 
> The name was just because 1) I thought it would be a more reliable way of reinforcing that fact since most of this story will be in second person and in a 'style' that doesn't really focus on details like that, 2) it's got some good meanings behind it – 'ready/willing', 'beloved/dear/agreeable', 'nice/sweet', and the obvious 'life', while Leif (similar sound, different spelling) means 'heir/inheritor' or 'relic' – along with being less clunky than 'Linkle' to my ear, and 3) there are a lot of room for Lief/leaf puns (originally her introduction was her falling out of a tree and into a barrel of apples, but then I was like '…but consider the death chicken.').
> 
> Her appearance is kind of a blend of typical young Link, Breath of the Wild Link (pony tail emphasis), and A Link To The Past Link, because I like the pink/brown hair (technically the shade I'm using is 'puce' but… puce) and it was one of the first Zelda games I played (and failed at, but I guess I had enough fun that I stayed with the series, rarely ever completing a game). The plan is for her to grow up to look pretty much like every other Adult Link (the full design I managed was very Twilight Princess inspired) but with… longer, puce-colored hair (that word is painful to type) and slightly more traditionally feminine features.
> 
> I added Impa to the story just because it didn't make sense that Zelda would be allowed to just… go anywhere she wanted, though the fact that Ganon/Ganondorf isn't a thing yet combined with the era of peace thing might explain it. Still, a bodyguard seemed like a good idea.
> 
> Context clues might tell you exactly what the real name of Shumari's sword is. Also on that subject, Shumari is an Alter who I haven't written anything for yet but his stuff is in the works. The Jumps I have planned for him include Okami and Princess Mononoke.
> 
> Lief was fighting Acrobandits in this chapter. As the name is somewhat clunky and not one that a person might guess off the top of their head during an encounter, Lief and co. just think of them as mole monsters (coming from underground and all that).
> 
> Lief is working with the 300 cp version of the drawback 'The Princesses Friend, A Reincarnation'.


	3. Ezlo Throws His Hat Into The Ring

The thing about Minish Woods was that, while it looked harmless from the outside, it quickly revealed its nature as a not quite earthly place as one ventured further in. The trees closed in on the path, branches merging into a leafy roof that only allowed thin steams of sunlight to reach the ground, and moss quickly replaced the long grass of the fields as a vague mist curled through the undergrowth, limiting how much a wanderer could see around them.

You knew from experience how easy it was to get lost in here. Probably not quite as easily as that one cursed wood that your grandfather had once told you about to the west because that's where all the old ghosts liked to lurk, but the Minish Woods seemed designed to turn people around back to where they started… or as far away from the exit as physically possible.

If the Picori really did live here, that might have been a deliberate feature.

Still, that didn't make you any happier about going back in. You'd avoided the place since your father's death and your rescue, but now the fate of Zelda depended on you going into its depths. So you went, taking your memories and misgivings with you.

The woods hadn't really changed since that fateful day, despite all the years that had passed since then. Maybe five years weren't that much when it came to nature, but it was still uncanny how you'd seemed to walk into the past through the simple act of crossing that tree line. You half expected to see your father round around the back of one of the trees, the pattern of stains on his travelling cloak shifting as he motioned for you to follow. Considering how clear your memories could come across when your mind wanted to go there, there was always the chance that he might.

"This seems like the sort of place that Celebi would like…" Utari murmured from her place on your shoulder.

"Celebi?"

A half-memory of something green and fairy-like flitting through the trees almost had you turning to look at the forest around you before the touch of a nonexistent hand stopped you.

'If he was here, we would have heard something,' Delaine said. 'He wouldn't have hidden from me.'

Huh. There was _something_ there. What, you couldn't say without diving deeper into someone else's past, which wasn't really an option when you were having trouble not getting dragged into your own history.

"Aaah… I guess he was some sort of forest kami?" Utari supplied in response to the question you hadn't properly asked, scratching behind one of her ears before launching into further exposition. "Er, a kami is sort of partway between a spirit and a god. More powerful than any ordinary human, but not as potent as most might define a proper 'god' as being, though I've never seen any hard definitions for that sort of thing. I didn't see any shrines around or anything, so I presume you don't worship them in Hyrule. He was pretty low key compared to most I've encountered, but he definitely had the presence, especially when he wanted to remind you of the fact."

"Sounds a bit like the great fairies people tell stories about." You carefully made your way across a moss-covered bridge, testing each plank before putting your weight on it. Each held, but you couldn't find it in yourself to trust something that looked this old and worn without some confirmation that it would hold fast. "You've known a lot of these kami?"

"I've met a few. Lots of wolves for some reason. Not that I'd recommend complaining about that to their faces, what with all the _teeth_ ," the Picori added sotto voce before speaking up again, "Shumari did too, so I'm surprised you don't remember it from his point of view."

The image of a wolf the size of a small hill smiling down at you with what could have been approval or grinning malice crossed your mind, along with the sense that she could crush you with all the effort most people would put into crushing a sparrow's egg if they really wanted to. Though you'd never seen her before in your life, you still knew her name.

Moro.

You shoved the memory away, only for another more familiar one to surface.

'You need to be careful in wild places like this, Lief.'

You'd turned around to look at your father – or at least, your memory of him. Between him and your mother, more of his looks had come your way, though your mother's dirty blonde had tempered his dusty lavender to your pinkish brown – puce, your brother liked to call it once he discovered the word covered your particular color and meant 'flea poo' – but your father always had struck you as looking more impressive, like some storybook hero galloping straight off the page. Maybe that was because he didn't live long enough to be tempered by age like your uncle or grandfather… or maybe it was because your only memory came from a time when your father played such a figure in your mind. It was easy to see someone as tall and strong when you were small and weak.

In the sight of your mind's eye, he was looking down at a smaller you, who was stumbling over her feet as she tried to keep up with her father's long stride, with an amused smile even as he made all those tiny adjustments to keep himself close enough to catch her if one of those stumbles turned into a proper fall.

Regardless of that, he had the youngish look of a man still a few years off of thirty, tempered by the attitude of an experienced knight and single father, the last made all the more obvious by how carefully he maneuvered himself around the small child he was walking alongside. Even with his usual plate armor traded for an outfit not unlike your own – save for the addition of a few pieces of leather armor and the glint of chain mail peeking out from under his green tunic –, he cut a classically romantic figure with his hair tied back in a relaxed ponytail, a well-worn long bow held loosely in hand while a quiver of arrows lay against his lower back.

'Like Robin Hood.'

You shoved Delaine's random thought away as your memory played on. Utari was saying something, her tone seemingly concerned, but it was just a vague murmur compared to the soothing voice of your father.

'Because while there might not be any monsters hiding among the trees, there's still danger,' he continued, looking around with a wariness that didn't carry into his tone. 'Wild animals are one of those dangers. Even prey animals can kill a man when pushed into a corner.'

'And the others?' the smaller Lief asked as she rolled herself over a tall root that crawled all the way across the path.

The root was still there, hardly changed from what it had looked like in the memory save for the placement of the moss, but now you could just step over it with only a little effort instead of struggling to pull your entire body up and over something almost half your size. It didn't hurt that you now had the sense to avoid the tallest section.

'The environment itself holds many of them,' your father answered as he helped your memory of yourself get down from the far side of the root without falling, looking around as he did so. You did the same, evaluating the scenery for anything you might have missed. 'And I don't just mean things like uncertain ground, dangerous plants, and violent weather. It is very easy to get lost in these woods, especially once the mist rolls in. After that, it's only a matter of time until the lack of shelter or food brings you down for good and if you happen to run into a bit of random bad luck…'

'That's why I've brought you here – I'm going to teach you about the woods. Signs you can navigate by, what you can and cannot eat, how to set a snare...' your father had said before cutting himself off with a smile. 'Hunting proper I think we can leave off until you're older – I don't think you have the arm strength for a bow just yet. Besides, I don't want to risk you taking over for me as primary provider of the house just yet.'

As the past Lief gave a little squawk of protest and your father fell to laughing, you grimaced. The joke had been such a small, innocent thing – an offhand comment that wasn't meant to mean anything more than a momentary distraction… and definitely wasn't meant to become a stab in the heart in any time you happened to look back at that moment.

You moved on, slipping through the trees as the words of one of your father's lessons echoes in your ears.

'The first skill you need when hunting is stealth. Not only not being seen, but not being heard or scented. Smell is harder to fool, because we're not so dependent on it as most beasts. We go for sight instead – which makes us very good at picking out camouflaged creatures. It's not foolproof, but it makes us a bit more clever in a way most creatures aren't adapted to. Still, that doesn't mean that we should ignore the other senses. Tell me, what do you hear? What do you smell? And how can you keep others from hearing, seeing, and smelling you?'

The mossy ground made silence easy, as did your green tunic made camouflage, but you couldn't remember what the rule for smell was – was it damp or dry that weakened or intensified smells, or was that one of those finicky rules that only applied to certain objects at certain times?

Something shuffled ahead, leaving you just enough time to duck behind a cluster of bushes as an Octorok appeared. As it drew closer, you calculated your options. You could try to sneak away – the Minish Woods offered plenty of opportunities for such a thing – or you could fight it and hope that there was just one… after all, the ones you'd fought earlier was relatively easy to put down and there was no reason to believe this one different.

You shifted your grip on your sword, knowing the moment that you drew it, the hiss of steel blade on brass tang would almost certainly draw the monster's attention. If it had backup, the situation might take a turn for the worse, but if you could get to it quickly enough…

'The second… is the ability to strike decisively,' your father's voice echoed as you plotted your next movements. 'That can be the difference between life and death… for you or the creature you're after. Find a creature's weak point and end the battle in a single stroke, identify a creature's strength and rob them of the ability to use it... or even use it against them. Regardless of what you do in a fight, you cannot afford do to it halfway.'

You made a choice and jumped out of the brush, slamming your heel into the Octorok's face before following up by planting the end of your sword's sheath into the middle of its back. Despite not puncturing the skin, the trauma was still enough to see it disintegrate into smoke and a faint smear of oily residue on the forest floor, a couple low value rupees glittering under that slick mess.

'I'm not even going to pretend I understand how that works,' Delaine muttered as you quickly collected your prize as the remaining residue evaporated into the air, leaving the rupees just as clean as the others in your purse. The takedown was quick and, more importantly, much stealthier than actually drawing your weapon and risking a wrong flash of light or noise at an inopportune moment.

'What's not to understand?' Shumari asked. 'It's no different than killing a person and going through their pockets, they just explode into nothing first and leave the valuables behind, which vastly de-complicates the process.'

'THAT'S THE PART THAT DOESN'T WORK, FOX FACE.'

With a bit of effort, you pushed the burgeoning argument to the back of your mind, instead putting your entire focus on the woods around you. There had to be some sign that would take you to where you needed to be, something more concrete than 'the Picori reside in the Minish Wood'. Not a plain signpost – that would be too much – but for there to be absolutely nothing was… was patently unfair. The idea of getting lost hadn't even occurred to you, even though you know how this forest worked.

"Are you sure that you don't know how to find the Picori?" you finally asked Utari after ten minutes of walking in not quite circles. "You don't have a spell or anything?"

The mouselike biographer gave a full body grimace, her twitching tail ticking your cheek slightly. "I've never come out this way and I never thought to ask anyone else before… before this all started! And all my magic is elemental – it's not good for things like _finding_. Ooooh, this is terrible."

It was terrible, but you supposed the only thing you could do about it was keep going.

* * *

 

An hour later, you were beginning to suspect that, if the Picori were anywhere in this forest, they'd picked a corner of Minish Woods that was impossible for anyone to actually reach. You hadn't managed to circle around to anyplace you'd been earlier, if the lack of familiar landmarks and the presence of monsters you hadn't killed yet was any evidence, but that same sense of futility was mounting. Useless, useless.

'You're not useless. This forest is just _dumb_ ,' Delaine muttered as you stepped over a moldering barrel someone must have abandoned decades ago. The imaginary woman seemed to gather herself before calming down. 'Alright, let's try something else – first, find a place to sit down.'

You did, finding a fallen log fairly easily. It had an irritating springiness to it that spoke of a few years of wood rot, but it was livable for the moment.

'Alright. Now that you're sitting comfortably, we can try meditating.'

Your irritation spiked. "How is that going to help anything?" you asked aloud.

Utari's head turned towards you, but it was Shumari that answered your question. 'Just give it a minute and you'll see.'

You sat and, following old lessons, cleared your mind. Worries were shelved, emotions shoved aside, and flitting thoughts swept underneath the proverbial rug until you were still. Like a pond undisturbed, Swiftblade had said during one of your few lessons with the master swordsman, it would leave one free to interpret the ripples of a single splash without any other distract–

'Well, shit,' Delaine said, completely shattering your tranquility. 'I thought that was going to work.'

You had no idea what 'that' was supposed to be, but you did feel a little better for the five seconds of internal peace you managed to put off before the voices in your head decided to complain about your lack of ability.

'It's not your fault,' Delaine amended, her palpable frustration abating for a second. 'It's just… there's some disconnect between us that's keeping that ability from working. Which is a _bitch_ , because Aura sensing would be pretty useful right now, seeing as we don't have any better leads –'

A frightful screech suddenly rang out, followed by a series of words that struck you as being profane without you actually understanding the language they were said in, though if Utari's offended noise was any indication, she did.

As far as leads went, a mysterious racket in a forest of silence certainly counted, right?

If you hadn't become hopelessly lost already, the person in trouble was somewhere towards the marshes that led into Lake Hylia. There was already a slight squishiness to the moss around your feet and a taste of chill damp ahead of you, so that meant you were headed in the right direction.

Clearing the last barrier of green, you drew your sword…

Only to find a couple of Octoroks harassing a… a… what was it? Some sort of green bird? It's bottom didn't look right. Too… formless. Was that fabric?

'It's a hat. With a face. A bird face.'

To be fair, it was better than it having a regular person face, but you still couldn't help but stand there for a moment, completely and utterly dumbfounded by the sight.

"Hey! Don't just stand there! Help me!" the hat –bird? hat-bird? – yelled at you.

Shoving away the confusion – what was that thing supposed to be and why was it talking? –, you lunged forward, skewering the nearest monster on your sword and then forcing it off the blade with a kick when it failed to disintegrate fast enough. A missed step to the right – you hated this marshy ground – saw your next strike fail to come anywhere near your target. The Octorok in question seemed to consider this development before spitting out a rock at high speed. You barely managed to avoid making a potentially fatal flinch as the rock hit your shoulder – though the wince couldn't be helped – but your earlier mistake of slipping wasn't repeated as you made your next attack, stabbing clean through the monster before it could do anything to stop you.

'Enjoy the small fry while you can,' Shumari said as the Octorok melted away and you cleaned your sword of any lingering filth, 'because these fights are going to get harder as we go on. I'm speaking from experience.'

"Woo! That was a bit close! But you seemed to handle it handle that quite well," the hat-bird squawked, hopping a bit closer. It was still weird to look at – and how such a being would come into existence was beyond you, even if Delaine was willing to explain it as 'magic'. "Not that I couldn't have handled it myself, mind."

You gave Utari an aside glance, which she returned. Yes, the hat-bird without arms, legs, or wings was going to defeat two monsters that Lief had to hit with full force to stop. "Sure."

'I hate to be the first to ask, but where is this guy getting his ego?' Shumari asked.

Delaine seemed less surprised. 'Yeah, that's Ezlo. He's just like _that_.'

"Ezlo?" you asked under your breath. What kind of name was that?

Shumari seemed similarly skeptical. 'Are you sure you're remembering that name right? Because that almost sounded like 'Elmo' to my ear.'

'Look, Fox Face, I've got a good memory for stories and I played the hell out of the Zelda video games as a kid, teenager, and adult. I think I'd remember who the titular Minish Cap was and that is. Mother. Fucking. Ez. Lo.'

The hat-bird looked pleased with the apparent recognition. "Oho? You know of me?"

"Kinda," you answered, trying to keep up with two very different conversations. It didn't help that you didn't have any clue about what the second was about – what the hell were 'video games'? – beyond the fact that Zelda was somehow involved.

'Did you actually beat any of those games?' Shumari asked.

A moment of awkward silence passed before Delaine responded. 'One.'

'One? Out of how many?'

'Okay, first off, Link's Awakening doesn't count because the Gameboy cartridge I had fell apart–'

'How do you even _do_ that?'

As the voices' argument started building up steam and volume, you could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on. If you could just tune them out…

"Far be it from me to know all the nuances of human culture, but aren't you a bit young to be traipsing around the woods by yourself?" Ezlo asked. "It seems patently irresponsible to me, letting a child come in here alone."

"We–"

"We're on a mission to repair the Picori Blade!" Utari said loudly. "Because the Sorcerer –"

"Wind Mage," you corrected quietly. You'd remembered that trace of _knowing_ that you'd felt when you'd looked at Vaati for the first time – knowing what he was, what he was about, what he was like. Wind Mage was simply the smallest and least important of those details.

How you knew that, you didn't know. Maybe it was the same way that you'd 'known' what Moro looked like or why the mention of Celebi had brought to mind the impression of some small green fairy-like creature flitting through the trees.

"Wind Mage," the biographer corrected, her quill scratching as she a note of it on her slate. "The Wind Mage, Vaati, broke it into pieces when he unsealed the chest it was holding shut and turned the princess to a stone statue."

A strange look crossed Ezlo's face – though considering that you had little experience with reading the emotional state of birds, it might have been a figment of your imagination. "…Vaati, you say?"

Your hand clenched around the hilt of your sword. "I couldn't stop him."

"Is that why you're doing this? Because of a grudge?" the hat-bird asked.

"Because he hurt my precious person," you replied, looking Ezlo straight in the eye. "And because I need to save her. Restoring the Picori Blade is the best way I have to do that."

The hat-bird studied you for a moment, clearly going through some silent appraisal process that you had no context for.

"…very well then. I will help you!" Ezlo finally declared.

"What. How?" Utari asked.

You had a better question. "Why?"

"Because that is a good reason for a quest. Because you helped a stranger in danger despite having no real obligation to do so. Mostly because I have nothing better to do with my time," Ezlo said loftily before casting a distinctly unimpressed sidelong glance at you and your companion. "The fact that neither you nor your Minish companion – who is clearly a library Minish by that orange garb and the glasses – seem to have any idea of what you're doing doesn't hurt either."

"…I could have gone without the insult, but he's right," Utari muttered, adjusting her glasses. "We don't know where to go or what to do when we get there."

Delaine might know, given that you're almost entirely certain that she's the one who 'warned' you about Vaati – little good that it did – but she's currently having a screaming match with Shumari that you have no desire to get involved in. It's bad enough that they're giving you a headache without even being an active participant in their fight.

'– but the Minish Cap was the one that I got all the way through on my own,' Delaine said as the conversation finally calmed down enough for you to follow it… not that you really could, considering that you had no context for what they were talking about.

'Oh, that's a lot more helpful than the _fifteen percent_ of Twilight Princess you managed.'

'My hands were crippled! You try button smashing and L-targeting when your fingers won't cooperate half the time! The 3-D games are almost impossible with that kind of handicap!'

'Okay, what about quitting A Link To The Past right as you –'

'I WAS STUCK IN THE DARK WORLD AS A DEFENSELESS RABBIT. I SPENT _THREE_ _ **DAYS**_ LOOKING FOR AN EXIT.'

Actually, you would have preferred that they'd kept their argument to a distant buzz so that you didn't have to understand just enough of that sentence to be utterly and completely confused by it. "Stop… yelling."

"What was that?" Ezlo asked. The appraising look was back again.

"They won't shut up."

It wasn't whining or even whimpering, even if your tone sounded very much like it. That would be your story if anyone tried to call you out on it. It was painful wincing. That was slightly more dignified.

…maybe if you kept telling the lie, it would be more believable.

"Lief's got some of her… previous incarnations living in her head," Utari explained. "I used to work with one of them, which is why I'm following Lief around now. Shumari was… is difficult and annoying even at the best of times, but Delaine..." She made a strange waggling gesture with her hand in lieu of any better description.  
"They've been arguing about… 'vidya games' for the last ten minutes," you muttered, hands still clenched over your ears as if it would help keep out the noise. It doesn't. "I don't even know what those _are_."

'You require education, young grasshopper– ow!'

Delaine's presence pulled back from Shumari's with a quiet aura of smugness. 'The next time she's on bedrest for a week and doesn't feel like being asleep for the whole ordeal, we'll do that. At the moment, we have a quest to attend to.'

'If we were both corporeal, you wouldn't be able to do that so easily,' Shumari muttered.

'Maybe, but your kneecaps would still be in range, Fox Face, and I've got more than enough Irish in me to make you regret having them.'

"They're fighting again," you muttered before turning your attention back to reality. The Minish Woods are just as you left them, save for the light peeking through the tree canopy. That had turned from a golden afternoon shower of illumination to a deepening orange-red that encourages the shadows to come out from the nooks and crannies where they'd been hiding. It wouldn't be long until it was completely dark and, without a moon to light the way, it would be impossible to navigate the woods.

"Why am I not surprised…?" Utari asked with a sigh. "Anyway, it's going to be night soon, which means we need to set up camp."

"Oho, that won't be necessary," Ezlo said. "It is hardly any distance at all to the *hem* Picori village you were seeking, though I can understand how you could get turned around. It's a very subtle magic that is woven through this forest. Very good for maintaining privacy."

 _And very good at keeping the lost from being found in time to do any good_ , you almost said, just managing to bite back the words at the last second. The last thing you needed was to offend the people you needed to help restore the Picori Blade to its original condition.

Instead, you ask a question. "You can get us there?"

"In no time at all. If you take me with you, of course," the bird-hat said. "I, too, am on a quest to break a curse of Vaati's. And I have little doubt that somewhere along the line, your quest might end up being just the thing I need to break it."

Of course, there would be a condition to Ezlo's assistance.

'Well, most people want something in exchange for their services,' Delaine pointed out. 'And that's not an unreasonable thing, wanting to break the curse that he's under.'

'And he's being pretty forthright about it. Lot better than some people I've had to deal with,' Shumari added.

'Yeah, always annoying when people leave out the 'when I said I needed to reach such-and-such a person, I really meant _murder_ ' bit.'

"So? What do you say?" Ezlo asked. "Or are you talking it over with the 'voices'?"

You could have gone without the faintly condescending tone. "They're the ones who said I should trust you."

"Hm. An oddly literal turn of the phrase 'voice of reason'," the bird-hat muttered before raising his voice again. "But I'm hardly in a position to be questioning the inherent oddness of an individual's existence, am I? And your Minish friend vouching for your story hardly hurts either."

You hummed a little at that before deciding you didn't really care what Ezlo thought of you. "Which way should we go to find the Picori village then?"

Ezlo motioned at a vaguely defined path with his beak, one that you recognized as being where you'd come from. "That's the first part of the path – the easiest part. After that… well, I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise, but there's a bit of trickery involved."

"Alright then. Let's go."

You only managed to take four steps before a problem came up.

"Hey! Part of the agreement was that I would be coming with you," Ezlo hissed as he hopped along the path, almost a good four feet behind you. It looked like a laborious process, considering that the full-bodied heaves were giving the hat-bird only a handful of inches to show for his efforts, which raised questions as to how he got out in the forest in the first place. Had someone dumped him here or was there a freshly abandoned house around here that Ezlo had called home prior to acquiring his curse? "Or are you breaking your word? Shame on you, leaving a helpless old man alone in the woods."

Well, that was a nugget of information that you didn't really care about in the first place. "I'm not. You're just _slow_. It's easy to leave you behind."

'Uh oh.'

Ezlo coiled his cursed body up again before launching himself at your head, somehow dodging your flailing hands as the part of him that most resembled a hat locked around your head. A few fruitless tugs only went to prove that the hat-bird wouldn't let go of your head until he wanted to… and right now, he didn't.

"As I don't have legs, this is the fastest way to travel," he explained, twisting his head around to look you in the eye. "You can't argue about it being easy to leave me behind now, can you?"  
Maybe you couldn't argue, but you could still complain. "You're _wet_."

"Well of course!" Ezlo said with a superior matter-of-fact tone. "This is marshland! It's only natural that's anything that's sat here for any time will be a little damp."

If you were five years younger, you'd cry at how quickly you're losing control of your life. As it is, you'll settle for moving on to the next leg of your quest.

As if picking up on your displeasure – not that it would be particularly difficult, in your present mood –, Ezlo added. "If it makes you feel any better, it is immensely comfortable up here."

"It doesn't."

* * *

 

Like you suspected, Ezlo's path was the one you'd raced down while coming to his rescue, trailing all the way back to the clearing where you'd started running towards his screams. It was much as you had left it – long grass and crawling carpets of moss blurring the lines of fallen branches and the odd trace of human intervention, like an old stump left from some long forgotten logging expedition and a barrel already halfway sunken into the ground beneath it.

"Aha! I thought it would still be here!" Ezlo crowed.

You couldn't see anything here that would be worth crowing about. "What?"

"That!"

"It's a stump," you said, looking at the focus of Ezlo's attention. Cut clean across the top a few inches above where the gnarled roots anchored it to the earth, it was unremarkable in every respect except maybe for the fact that it seemed partially hollowed out and even that stood the risk of being a part of its natural decay.

"It's good to know your eyes work," the cursed accessory said sarcastically. "Yes, it is a stump. It's also home to an enchantment that we happen to have need of if you wish to make any progress on this quest."

"And?"

"I'm going to shrink you."

You already hated this plan.

Picking up on your annoyance with a speed you wouldn't have expected from such an obnoxious creature, Ezlo spoke again. "There is no other way to reach the ones you seek without one of them coming to you… and I somewhat doubt they're in an exploratory mood with all these monsters running around."

You hated it when people you didn't like had a point.

"I better get off before you do it – I don't think I'd be much help the size of a flea," Utari noted, hopping off your shoulder. A flash of concern had you reaching for her, but as soon as she landed on the stump – completely unhurt by a fall that was easily ten, if not twenty, times her height – you relaxed.

'Poncle skill. Probably comes from being so similar to bugs,' Shumari said, which raised more questions without explaining much of anything beyond the fact that incredible jumping ability was within the little scribe's list of skills.

Ezlo seemed slightly stunned by the display as well, though he soon rallied. "First, stand on top of the stump," he ordered. "Then completely stand still. I will handle the rest."

You did as commanded, carefully avoiding the splintering edges as you took up position.

Ezlo seemed to gather himself for a moment before barking out six words that you couldn't quite understand or remember beyond the fact that they were spoken and that there had been a sense of power behind them even though they hadn't been anywhere close to whispered. Then, you felt the world _shift_.

The best comparison you had to compare it to was the sensation of putting your full weight on something that suddenly refused to hold it, like an unexpectedly weak board in an upper level of a barn or a cobblestone on the edge of a cliff. Not quite falling, but close enough that your heart immediately started climbing up your throat in an attempt to escape the confines of your body and gravity. As the world pulled up and away, you finally lost your balance and any illusion of control over your descent into the stump. Luck – or perhaps intended design? – saw you bounce off of a couple toadstools inside of it instead of anything harder before you hit the ground.

"You're a lot more graceful with a sword in your hand, it seems," Ezlo said with a sniff.

You didn't reply, instead focusing on getting up and getting a good look at your surroundings.

From the inside, the stump was very different from the low tripping hazard that you'd seen from the outside. The walls climbed upwards like the walls of Hyrule Castle, though you doubted that any Hylian design would feature walls that curved like these, dotted by mushrooms and climbing designs of rot that almost looked like designs until your eye caught more blatant signs of decay. A giant crack ran through the 'ceiling' of the structure – likely what you'd fallen through, and now someone else was coming down it, albeit with a lot more grace.

"You sure look different at my size!" Utari chirped as she landed in front of you, her mouse-like eyes glittering in amusement behind her glasses.

Where before you were nebulously aware of the mouse-like frame hiding under the scribe's orange cloak, it was hard to miss those spindly, unmistakably inhuman legs from this distance or the sharp pointed claws that she had instead of blunt human nails. Still, there was an appealing excitement and openness in Utari's face that made it easy to like her.

"…you too."

The two of you stepped out of the stump and you got a fresh look at the world from the Minish perspective. Blades of grass stood higher than trees while the trees themselves were so distant they might as well been clouds, pebbles became boulders, and the bugs…

You watched an ant that was the size of a small cat pause in its work to look at you, antennae twitching as it assessed you, only to go back to walking as it apparently came to the decision that you weren't its problem.

The bugs, you could have done without.

"Straight down this path for a span," Ezlo instructed, gesturing at a faint groove in the soil that ran in a rambling line through the grass. "That will take you to the Minish village."

"…I thought it was Picori."

The hat-bird laughed. "Hah! They are one and the same, though Picori is what the humans call us. A bold assumption to make based on something as basic the sound of our language, but humans are always making assumptions about things, for good or ill."

'That's not exactly a human-exclusive trait, birdbrain,' Shumari snipped.

You sighed as you started walking again, intent on reaching the Picori village before night finished its fall. If this was any indication, this was going to prove to be a very, _very_ long quest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My god, it's been like… five months since I updated this. Writer's block has been hitting me hard, even on the Pokémon chapter rewrites (thankfully I've only got about two chapters of that left to go before finally moving forward on the plot)… not to mention this summer has been miserable. My area's been contending with flooding like you wouldn't believe and I've had constant vet visits for both my dog and my cat. The cat is thankfully less expensive, despite having four visits in the last two months (she messed up her face scratching, the fool).  
> -  
> The name for this chapter was originally going to be 'To The Picori' but then I was like '…but what if I make a Super Smash Bros character announcement joke instead?'  
> -  
> Yes, those are some of the more… memorable ways that I failed to complete Zelda games. Third runner up was how I managed to get myself trapped in a dungeon that I shouldn't have been able to access at that time (one of the Oracle games). And yes, the Minish Cap is the only Zelda game I have been able to finish unaided (though I should note that it's also the only Zelda game that I've played as an adult – everything else was played before I was 14). Having both joint and nerve problems in my hands makes video games hard… not to mention not being able to afford new systems and the difficulty in getting a hold of older games (outside of emulators).  
> …not that that stops me, mind. I'm just as bad at quitting as I am playing.  
> -  
> Anyway, reviews are appreciated. Regardless of if you leave one or not, thank you for reading.


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